My bottom perched on the back of the furniture, my legs are parted, one on either side of him, and his arm steadies me, as he fumbles with the strange fasteners at the waist of his trousers. I help him, and together we undo a button and then slide down a device with interlocking metal teeth. A zipper. He told me the word, when he put on the trousers.
Right now, I don’t care about the new things I’ve seen here. The only thing that matters is the large rod that escapes from behind that zipper.
Its head glistens with Zogar’s seed, and the weight of it strikes my belly with the promise of powerful pleasure. My need intensifies. I only just reached a climax, but I need so, so much more.
His fingers stroke through my cleft, and he parts my folds to position his rod against my eager entrance. The moment his fluids meld with mine, pleasure captures my entire being, and my head snaps back. Struggling to breathe, I push my sex against his hardness.
“Easy.” His hand rises to support my head. “You’re okay, my queen. I know what you need. Calm down. I’ll soon be inside you.”
I look into his eyes. Even if he stopped right now—even if he just stayed right here, pressing against me—I’d be satisfied. The sensation of my body opening against his hard thickness is so overwhelming, I’m no longer sure I need more. But I want more.
His hand shifts to my lower back and holding me steady, he presses the head of his thick cock inside.
I cry out at the intense stab of pain, but this pain is sweet and welcome and growing familiar. Within seconds it melts into pleasure.
Moving both hands to my hips, Zogar lifts me off the furniture to hold me in front of him, and his strong arms slowly lower me, letting me sheath more of him.
Even though only the top few finger widths of him have entered, the fullness and pleasure are more powerful than I remember from the other times we’ve been together. Each time he’s been inside me, it gets better.
His arms hold me still, as if I weigh nothing, and his legs and hips work to guide him in deeper and deeper. I gaze into his eyes, loving the obvious pleasure reflected there, and his gratification grows as his invasion gains depth. So does mine.
Excruciatingly slowly, Zogar works himself deeper and deeper, and every moment of progress fills me with delight so powerful I fear my head and my heart will burst.
He reaches a depth that feels past my capacity, and I cry out, gasping to breathe. My body no longer has room to expand my lungs.
Stopping there, he holds us both still. The only movement between us comes from his cock pulsing inside me. Slowly, my body absorbs him, adjusting to the staggering thickness. I’m shaking, vibrating inside and out.
Seeking stability, my legs wrap around his body, but before I’m secure, he starts to pump. Using his arms and hips in tandem, he drives fully in and out of me, and my entrance repeatedly submits to the stunning thickness of his head and his base, bothends of him shocking me, with each pass. My body bounces and shakes, fighting to fully consume each strong thrust.
Each time Zogar’s fucked me, I’ve felt sure he’s delivered the most pleasure possible, and yet each subsequent time exceeds the last. And thinking of the last time, I remember that I’m still angry at how he fucked me in front of Saxon and Tynan, but my physical needs have pushed that issue aside for the moment.
“Oh, my queen.” His face has turned red, his veins and tendons pulsing. “Forgive me. I must take you harder.”
There is harder than this?
Turning us, he presses my back against a wall, and I catch a glimpse of the rest of the room, including a fire that’s burning without smoke. But then the room blurs and melts away, as he starts driving into me with more vigor. Each of his hammering stabs threatens to crush my spine against the wall, to crush all my bones and split me in two.
Even if he kills me, I don’t care. The pleasure is too great to consider the consequences.
One word from me, and Zogar would stop or slow down—I’m sure of it—but I’m not sure I can form words, and it’s a strange thrill to realize I have no way to stop him. His body is four times the size of mine, ten times more powerful, and his massive rod occupies so much of me I have no control over what little strength I do possess. But instead of making me feel trapped, Zogar’s utter power, his undeniable dominance, heightens my pleasure.
We’re both so fully overcome, I’m no longer certain he’d be able to stop, even if I found my voice.
“Fuck!” His body shudders, as he continues to thrust. “Fuck!”
He lifts me, pulling right out as he slides me higher on the wall, leaving my cunny empty and pulsing.
His seed arcs forward, scalding my skin as it paints my belly and chest. He lowers me far enough for our mouths to meet, and he kisses me deeply, holding me tightly, even as his rod continues to erupt more of his scalding seed between us.
Using the added slickness, I slide against his body, loving the feel of his still hardened rod rubbing through the slippery dampness between us, and he groans into our kiss, his body shuddering, as more eruptions paint our bodies.
His shuddering eruptions cease, but he continues to kiss me. Holding me tightly, his fingers knead my backside as my damp and overstimulated sex rubs his rod that’s standing, albeit not quite so stiffly, between us.
After what might be minutes or hours—perhaps days—Zogar breaks our kiss and carries me back to the piece of furniture on which I was perched. It’s the longest and largest settee I’ve ever seen, and it forms an open rectangle around the strange fire.
Setting me on his lap, he sits and caresses my body as we both recover.
“I’m sorry.” He breaks the silence.
